


The Curse of the Fold

by Implosion



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Angst?, Area 77, Drabble, Gen, Hermitcraft - Freeform, Unreliable narrator?, Yes that's unreliable narrator with a question mark because I'm not sure if this qualifies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-07-25 08:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Implosion/pseuds/Implosion
Summary: When Doc closes his eyes, he can hear their whispers in his head.





	1. Doc

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what's going on with Doc and the aliens, but boy oh boy is it writing fodder. Fanfic title is subject to change, as I'm not really sure what to call it? When it doubt, use whatever song you're currently listening too.
> 
> tw: Mental manipulation?

When Doc closes his eyes, he can hear their whispers in his head. They tell him everything and yet nothing at all. They murmur in his ears, whispering secrets about the very fabric of the universe. He absorbs this knowledge, processes it, and then it’s gone, all over the course of the second. The aliens tell him secrets, the same secret, over and over again, and Doc never remembers a thing.

Time passes by in the blink of an eye. One moment, Doc is beneath Hermitville, mining out the caves and then he blinks to find himself in Area 77, working feverishly on a machine whose purpose is unknown to him. It looms large in front of him, hulking and disjointed, a stark contrast to the flush redstone designs Doc is used to creating. Doc has no idea what he is building. The aliens tell him more. They sing his praises in their echoing tones, which bounce around his brain until he can hear little else. Doc learns how to defeat gravity without an elytra. Time passes by at a snail’s crawl.

At first, sleeping is a welcome reprieve. When Doc sinks into sleep there is nothing but blackness, a comforting void that welcomes him with open arms. The voices can’t find him when he sleeps, and the only thoughts repeated are his own. But this changes. Soon the alien’s whispers twist their way into his dreams. And oh, what dreams they are! Doc dreams of a far away land, of burning red skies and a glassy reflective world. He dreams of gangly creatures, who speak in a language he's never heard before but he understands. Galactic. He stands beside many-eyed beings with masks and wings and watches in bemusement as a civilization burns itself to ruin. He watches a familiar face lose his body to the crackling sparks of an untameable magic. Doc observes this all and forgets. 

-

The moon shines brightly overhead. Exhaustion has long since settled deep into Doc’s bones, an ever-present tiredness he can’t get rid of no matter how long he sleeps nowadays. Not that he’s been sleeping much lately. Every moment of his time has been spent out here, working on the machine. He can't remember the last time he had seen another Hermit outside of his brief excursions to the shopping district. Stepping away, Doc takes a moment to observe his handiwork. Feeling satisfied, he collapses into the dirt to catch his breath. The murmurs in his head grow restless. _ Go back to work, _ They urge him, their tones pleading. _You're so close now._

Doc shakes his head and tilts his head back, gazing up at the cloudless night sky. What harm was a little break? The aliens quiet for a second, and Doc smiles to himself, only for a sharp stab of pain to race through his head. Wincing, he bites back a hiss. He brings his hand up to probe the tender spot only to

wake up lying down in a sunny field. The grass is warm beneath his fingers and the birds are singing sweetly under the noonday sun. A shadow falls over him. Doc looks at it, a shifting mass of dark and light, a familiar face he knows but cannot place. The shadow says something, but the chattering in his head is louder. The shadow repeats itself. Doc squints at it in confusion, as the sound reaches him but he fails to understand it. 

“Doc?” The shadow asks, before solidifying. The shifting, unrecognizable mass gives way to Scar, who's peering down at him with concern. He offers a hand to Doc, who blinks at it owlishly before accepting the help. Scar pulls him to his feet as if he weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. “Doc, are you okay?”

Instead of answering, Doc turns away to observe his surroundings. It’s area he’s unfamiliar with, for while it is in close proximity to Area 77, he had never visited before. He recognizes the area, if barely. A honeyed voice helpfully supplies the rest he needs to know. He’s in the plains besides Scar’s newest build, some kind of Western-themed minigame. Doc has been here before, many times over.

Scar says something again. Doc doesn't respond, and so Scar hesitantly lays a hand on his shoulder. The voices hiss. Doc whirls around, lighting quick, drawing his lips back into a snarl as a trident appears in his hands, crackling with energy. He wrenches his shoulder out of Scar's grip, as if Scar's touch had burned his skin. Paling, Scar steps aways, his hands shaking as he hurriedly taps out something on the communicator wrapped around his wrist. Scar says something, but his words come to Doc through a thick layer of fog, as Doc draws back his arm to throw his trident. "D-Doc?"

_Getridofhimgetridof-_ “What?” Doc hisses offhandedly, only to pause as he registers the sound of his own voice. It’s low and strained, almost unrecognizable from disuse. What had he been about to do, attack one of his friends? Widening his eyes, he hurriedly puts away his trident and takes a step towards Scar, who further steps away. “I’m so sorry man, I don’t know what came over me.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Doc is alone in his head.

“Doc,” Scar says again, softer this time, “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” says Doc. The words taste bittersweet on his tongue, like a lie.

The aliens resume their murmurs.


	2. Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scar holds a block of Vex magic, he feels nothing but emptiness where there should be fire. For reasons he could not fathom, the Vex have withdrawn their gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't actually sure if I would continue this story, as the first part was written as a oneshot. Although I felt wholly unsatisfied with it as it was and how it was written, I only had a few inklings as to where the story could go. But when Scar joined forces with Doc I was like huh, maybe I should write some more.
> 
> The first part was written with the intention of it being sorta gothic, but that formula will probably only stick for Doc's parts. I'm not very accustomed to writing in that format (and I think it shows), haha.
> 
> I do actually have a bit of an outline now and a ending in mind. I'm not sure how many chapters this will end up, but wherever it goes I hope you guys like it!

When Scar dreamed, he used to see the Vex. They rarely manifested physically, but he could always feel their eyes, like the gentle hand of a mother watching over a child. He could hear their voices, their soothing lullabies of encouragement. His dreams rarely differed. When Scar dreamed, it was of sprawling forests, of impossible mountains, and towering trees, all built by his hand. He walked the world of his dreams alone, with nothing but the whispers of the Vex in his mind as company. In his dreams, they promised him everything. Wealth, power, glory. Whatever he wanted was his for the taking.

But something has changed, since he encountered Doc on the plains. No longer do the Vex murmur in his ear. Not in his dreams, nor during the day. When Scar holds a block of Vex magic, he feels nothing but emptiness where there should be fire. For reasons he could not fathom, the Vex have withdrawn their gift.

His dreams too, have changed, become tainted and twisted. Now, when Scar sleeps, he sees a familiar face with dull eyes, gazing through him as if he was a stranger. He sees a blue trident, sharp as a blade, glittering like starlight beneath the noonday sun. Sometimes it’s stained with his blood. On the good nights, Doc breaks free from his trance before he throws the trident, and Scar awakes shaken in the morning. On the bad nights, Scar wakes up screaming. 

For the first time in a long while, when Scar thinks about one of his friends, he feels afraid.

He hasn’t told anyone what had happened the week before. Not Xisuma, who would no doubt have some words to ease his mind. Not Cub, who’s beginning to look more concerned with each passing day. Cub knows something is up, Scar is sure, _he must_, but they dance around the topic. 

To keep his mind off of things, he throws himself into finishing his minigame, into completing his western-themed town. Scar recoils into himself, begging off outings with Cub and his other friends. He bundles up all the fear and confusion, and channels his energy into mindless hours of grinding and building. Scar builds ups a fantastical town, layered with secrets and hidden nooks, and pushes all of his worries to the back of his mind. Time would heal his wounds, of this, he was certain.

Things get easier.

Scar’s dreams ease up. He starts sleeping through the night again. The Vex have yet to make their presence known, but Scar is positive they will return with time.

In their absence, all he feels is _cold_. 

-

It takes Scar a while to realize that Doc is avoiding him. It wasn’t obvious at first, and it isn’t until Scar encounters him at Cherry one day that he knows for sure. They both freeze in place as soon as they see each other, and when Doc makes the move to step forward, Scar instinctively flinches, his mind overtaken by flashes of _blue_ and _empty eyes_ and confused murmurs of _Doc?Whatareyoudoing?_ Static fills his ears and for a second Scar struggles to breathe. Over the wash of white noise, he barely registers the sound of his restocking box hitting the gravel and cracking open, spilling his redstone components over the path. 

He recovers after a moment, bt squeezing his eyes closed until the memories dissipate and grounding himself in the moment, and he opens them again Doc has buckled his elytra to his chest.

“Wait Doc, we should-” Scar says quickly, but Doc quicker. He bullets into the air with the flick of a match, soaring up and away from the Shopping District- away from Scar- as if the hounds of Hell were snapping at his heels.

Scar blinked owlishly at the trail of smoke left in his wake, before sighing and getting down onto his knees to collect the spilled redstone. 

A week later, his communicator beeps. 

Though it nearing midnight, Scar had yet to fall asleep. It was one of those nights were he stared up at his ceiling for hours, waiting to drift off. When his wrist comm whirrs from his nightstand, he reaches for it, thinking it’s Cub, who was known to text him at odd hours. Not that they'd been texting much lately.

But it’s not Cub who has texted Scar tonight. 

It’s Doc. 

_We need to talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part wasn't beta'd, so if you spot an error, feel free to let me know! I love reading comments, so if you have any thoughts, please post them! It really does encourage me to write more. 
> 
> Next up will be Cub.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he cranes his head to look at his reflection in the river, a stranger stares back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interlude.

Staring down at his fingers in confusion, he experimentally wiggles them. Blue sparks pop and fizz into existence, and he lets loose a booming laugh, as magic swirls around his hand like a lit firecracker. Raising his arm to the sky, he grins, as the swirling blue and silver sparks follow the movement, creating a mirage in their wake.

He is alight with energy, the likes of which he has never felt before. When he walks, the magic sears his footprints into the ground, leaving a charred trail behind him. The air around him vibrates with power, shimmering like heat waves rising over a lava pool. Magic circulates through his veins like blood; it pumps through his heart and his worries bleed away until only one thought remains. Nothing will stand in my way.

He is magic. But there is no room for anything else.

He has a mission. He doesn't know what it is, but there's somewhere he needs to be, something he needs to do. Magic streams off his hands as he clenches his fists, faint whispers flitting through his mind. 

The plains. They say. They urge. They plead. We're going to the plains. Nodding, he sets off. He tears through the forest like a cannonball; there is little can stop him as he vaults over logs and startles animals out of his way. Trees blur by him and before too long the plains are stretching endlessly in front of him, just across the river. He considers how to get across, before his gaze falls onto the water.

When he cranes his head to look at his reflection in the river, a stranger stares back at him.

This stranger has glowing eyes, pure silver, with no iris or pupil. Blue veins crawl across his pale skin like curling vines, pulsing with a faint blue light. There is no life to his skin, and beneath the light of the sun he appears gray and pasty. He looks sickly and thin, a shell of his former self.

His body was not created to host so much magic.

The Vex vacate their vessel in an instant.

The magic leaves Cub all at once. It flows out of his mind and his body and into the world. He collapses onto his knees in the dirt, himself again, as his vision swims and ripples. When he inhales, there is nothing but pain, sharp and sudden, and there is a moment where he cannot breath at all.

He coughs and hacks, attempting to expel the lingering sickness that the Vex left from his body. With limbs that feel like jelly, Cub collapses into the dirt, still wheezing. He tries to focus on his breathing. It’s ten minutes before the pain in his lungs fades to a pinch, and twenty more before Cub feels any semblance of control over himself again. 

“Wha-.. what did you do?” He asks the empty space in front of him. Though the Vex haven’t made themselves known since they stopped possessing him, but Cub knows they're still around, hovering just out of reach.

For a moment, they are silent.

Then he recognizes the familiar touch of the Vex as they brush against his mind, like a cat would rub against it's owner. Normally, he finds this touch to be soothing, but the memory of the Vex fighting against his soul for control over his body is still fresh in his mind. His mind still hums with the faint impressions of power and magic and energy and despite the bile rising in his throat, some ugly part of him.. almost misses it, the feeling of having the whole world as his oyster. It's a thought that feels disgusting to consider. Recoiling, Cub retreats from the caress of the Vex.

They hiss and withdraw with talons from his mind. When the Vex called, you never disobeyed. And before today, Cub had willingly bared his mind to them, in exchange for their knowledge and magic. He had allowed his body to be a vessel for them before, but this was the first time the Vex had forced their way in. They had always asked.

Cub’s memory of the time he spent being entity made of magic and chaos is fading quickly, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the overwhelming blanket of fear the Vex had impressed upon him during the first few moments, before he realized what was happening to him; what the Vex were trying to do. Before everything that made him uniquely Cub was hurled into a pit and buried deep within his own mind.

Cub hadn’t even realized that fear was something the Vex could feel. They were creatures of chaos, of trickery and magic. They only had to want, and that would be enough to will their desires into existence with magic. The Vex had always seemed like such indomitable creatures. Fear was something that was alien to them.

What type of thing could scare the Vex so badly? What made them so afraid that they all poured their power and being into Cub, until he was a star set to go supernova?

“Why?” Cub asks. He doesn’t expect an answer.

The air shifts. The Vex are nervous. There’s something they’re not telling him (there’s many things the Vex aren’t telling him), but Cub knows that this, whatever they're hiding, is important. "We needed a vessel.” A singular voice tells him. It is soft, carrying no traces of emotion. “All of us. We thought you would be strong enough.”

A different voice, harder and coarser chimes in. “We were wrong.”

Cub swallows. He considers this, what they've revealed to him. As he fiddles with the loose threads of the sleeve on his lab coat, he wonders if the Vex would answer one more question.

If all of the Vex were here, with him, then.. they weren't with Scar.

“What’s.. What’s happened to Scar?” Cubs asks.

The Vex remain silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline wise, this takes place nearly directly after Scar first encounters Doc on the plains! I really wanted to explore what happened to Scar's Vex, and uh, I hope I did a good job? (It's kinda dark. I'm bumming myself out tbh) 
> 
> Let me know if there's anything you guys wanted me to tag or if you spot an error. Until next time! 
> 
> Please leave comments if you can, they really inspire me to keep writing! If you like the story, tell me what you like! If you don't like the story, well, leave me some constructive criticism and I'll do my best to work on making the story better! (:
> 
> I finally got around to editing the last chapter, so some minor errors have been fixed and other sentences have been changed. Next chapter will return to Doc and Scar.
> 
> Have an awesome day!

**Author's Note:**

> *slaps fanfic* This baby can fit so many references to other Hermitcraft fics in it. In all seriousness though, I hope you enjoyed! I haven't written fanfic in years or written creatively for a few months, so I'm a bit out of practice. This piece is un-beta'd, so if you see any grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know in the comments!


End file.
